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Bridget shook her head and sighed again-only, much louder. “He’s never even noticed I’m alive.”
Snorting, Izzie replied, “I doubt that. You’re adorable.”
Bridget’s bottom lip came out in a tiny pout. “Fluffy teddy bears are adorable. I want to be…something else.”
Sexy. It was obviously what Bridget had in mind. Izzie eyed her cousin, considering making her over. Bridget had the basics-she just needed to bring them out a little. But she didn’t think Bridget needed much. She was so quietly pretty, so gentle and feminine…any guy would be an idiot to want to change her.
Then again, she’d known a ton of guys, few of whom were Einstein material. “So ask him out. Make him notice you.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Just for a cup of coffee.”
Her cousin snagged her lip between her teeth.
“What?”
“Well, he did ask me to go for coffee once, but I was so flustered and nervous, I told him I didn’t drink it.”
Raising a brow and staring pointedly at the industrial-sized mug in front of her cousin’s face, Izzie grunted.
“But it wasn’t a date,” Bridget added. “At least, I don’t think so.” Sounding frustrated, she added, “Maybe I should get a collagen injection. I’ve heard men like big lips.”
Ridiculous. Bridget’s beauty was the natural kind that needed no false crap like the stuff Izzie had seen other dancers do to themselves. But before she could say that-or threaten to lob a handful of ricotta cheesecake filling at Bridget if she did something so dumb-she heard the bell over the front door.
Glancing at the clock, she bit back a curse. It was nearly five-an hour after closing time. She must have forgotten to lock the door after her part-time lunch workers had left for the day and some customer had wandered in for a snack.
She doubted there was much left to serve. Mornings were their busiest time, with regulars and passers-by coming in for pastries and muffins. During the lunch hour, when Natale’s served light sandwiches and salads along with decadent deserts, they were busy, too. Since Izzie had come up with the idea to offer free wireless Internet access to anyone with a laptop, some customers parked themselves at one of the small, café tables and remained there until closing time. They drank a lot of coffee…and ate a lot of sweets. By 4:00 p.m., Natale’s display counter was generally wiped out, as this late customer would soon discover.
“Hello?” a voice called.
Grabbing a towel, Izzie wiped her hands on it and tossed it over her shoulder. “Be right back,” she told her cousin as she walked down the short hallway to the café. “Sorry, we’re closed for the…” The words died on her lips when she saw who stood on the other side of the glass display case, looking so hot she almost shielded her eyes from the glory of him.
“I know.” He shrugged slightly. “But the door was unlocked, so I thought I’d take a chance and see if you were here.”
Nick stood inside the shadowy café, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the front window. The light reflected in his dark eyes, lending them a golden glow that seemed to radiate warmth. She felt it from here.
“You found me,” she murmured.
“You didn’t exactly need to leave a trail of crumbs, Cookie…this place has been here forever.”
“Don’t call me Cookie,” she snapped.
He held up his hands, palms out. “Sorry.”
Ordering her heart to continue beating normally, Izzie tossed the towel onto the counter, then crossed her arms over her chest to stare at him. “Are you trying to tell me you knew I’d be here because you knew who I was? Try again.”
Nick cleared his throat, averting his gaze. Wincing in a cutely sheepish way, he said, “No, I didn’t know you at first.”
So, he’d recognized her after she had left?
“Mark told me who you were.”
The jerk.
“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. It’s been a long time.”
Not long enough to erase him from her mind, that was for sure. She’d recognize Nick Santori if she bumped into him blindfolded during a blackout. Because his scent was imprinted in her brain. And her body reacted in one instinctive way whenever he was near-a way it didn’t react with anyone else, even men with whom she’d been intimate.
He made her shaky and achy and weak and ravenous all at the same time. Always had, for some unknown reason.
“Yeah. A long time,” she mumbled, walking over to wash her hands in the small sink behind the counter.
Damn, she hated that he flustered her. She had known more handsome men. She’d been to bed with more handsome men. Maybe none who were as rugged and masculine, or so sensual. But she had dated drop-dead gorgeous actors and millionaires who wanted to notch their bedposts with a professional dancer who could kick her leg straight up above her head. None of them had ever affected her the way this one-who she’d never even kissed-did.
